


Black snakes are innocent

by PollyWeasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst but also fluff, Bottom Draco, Community: harrydracompreg, Draco and Harry are friends before lovers, Draco in the Dumbledore's Army, First Time, Longer War, M/M, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Paternal Harry, Pregnant Draco Malfoy, Top Harry, spy Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9652706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PollyWeasley/pseuds/PollyWeasley
Summary: When Voldemort’s back by the end of the Triwizard Tournament, Draco finds out a bitter side of his own story. Afraid for his own future, he joins the Light Side as a spy, hoping he could change his destiny by fighting on Potter’s side. Years later, with a forbidden child of a secret love, he understands that the future is way darker than he ever thought it would be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for my beta [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=stardustsketchr)[stardustsketchr](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=stardustsketchr) who made an awesome job dealing with me and my deadline induced panic. I also hope that the prompter would forgive me if the fic didn’t get out the way you imagined. I did my best to fulfil everything you asked, but had to change some things so it would make sense to my plot. It was also a terribly difficult fanfiction to write, and I hope the readers forgive me if there’s any mistakes. My beta and I tried everything to make it good and enjoyable for everyone and I do hope you all like it. Thank you!

  
**Title:** Black snakes are innocent  
**Prompt:** [PROMPT 61](http://mpreg-fest-mod.dreamwidth.org/14710.html#cutid1)  
**Word Count/Art Medium:** about 15k  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Contains (Highlight to view):** * Canon divergence. Longer war. Bottom!Draco. Top!Harry. Underage sex. Teen Pregnancy. Not as much dialogue as I would want. *  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
**Epilogue compliant?:** No.  
**Who is pregnant?:** * Draco*  
**Notes:** Thank you for my beta [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=stardustsketchr)[](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=stardustsketchr)**stardustsketchr** who made an awesome job dealing with me and my deadline induced panic. I also hope that the prompter would forgive me if the fic didn’t get out the way you imagined. I did my best to fulfil everything you asked, but had to change some things so it would make sense to my plot. It was also a terribly difficult fanfiction to write, and I hope the readers forgive me if there’s any mistakes. My beta and I tried everything to make it good and enjoyable for everyone and I do hope you all like it. Thank you!  
**Summary:** When Voldemort’s back by the end of the Triwizard Tournament, Draco finds out a bitter side of his own story. Afraid for his own future, he joins the Light Side as a spy, hoping he could change his destiny by fighting on Potter’s side. Years later, with a forbidden child of a secret love, he understands that the future is way darker than he ever thought it would be.

 

  
**Black Snakes are Innocent**

|| _On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking._  
The voice of my education said to me  
He must be killed, For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold are venomous.

_And voices in me said, If you were a man  
You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off._

_But must I confess how I liked him,_  
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink at my water-trough  
And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,  
Into the burning bowels of this earth? 

_Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him?_  
Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him?  
Was it humility, to feel so honoured? 

_I felt so honoured._ ||  
Snake, D. H. Lawrence.  
__

 

_February 14th, 1990_

It was an honour to be in front of the Dark Lord. Lucius felt more than special to have that different treatment. He was alone with the leader of a new world, in a large and very well-built room. It was impossible to look away from his blue irises, soft black hair that made a slight fall back where it fell over his forehead and gave him an even more beautiful aspect. Tom Riddle, or as he preferred to be called, Lord Voldemort, was one of the most perfect creatures of the Earth. There was no one so powerful. No one as perfect as him.

 

“Glad you came, Malfoy. I hope you know I don’t usually waste time on frivolities... Then I will go straight to the point,” Tom Riddle was sitting in his high-backed chair, his long, thin fingers touching his wand as if worshiping it. He licked his lips, indicating with his hand so Lucius would sit in the chair in front of him, smaller and decidedly less comfortable. “Some time ago I was thinking about it, and I came to the conclusion that it will be made necessary that, one day, I have an heir to continue my legacy.”

Lucius felt a slight concern born inside his chest, but nodded.

“One of the biggest ideals of the great families is always to spread their wings,” Malfoy said, as if chanting a well remembered mantra.

“Yes, I know that. But I couldn’t find anyone to have my heir in their body. No...” Voldemort stood up, his chin up high, cold eyes on his vassal. “So I called you. To birth my child, I wish the body of Narcissa.”

Lucius felt his heart drop near to his stomach. His hands were cold, his whole body trembled, and he couldn’t even show how horrible it was. He must somehow divert attention, make his master change his mind.

“But, my lord... It would be extremely of bad tone that a pureblood such as Narcissa had a child out of wedlock. The magical laws would prevent her from continuing with the pregnancy, and probably both would die,” Lucius said, trying to keep his voice extremely firm, mainly because he wasn’t sure of what he was saying and the Dark Lord was a great Legillimens. “Besides... Narcissa is already with child. She wouldn’t be very useful now.”

The Lord stopped for a few seconds, analyzing his wand and turning it in his fingers, as if thinking about it.

“I'm not in a hurry,” He said, turning to Lucius, who kept his eyes pinned to his master, because diverting them could show his fear. “I know Narcissa is dear to you. And that is right, as a pureblood you need to keep your family as pure as possible. I just assumed that as your wedding was recent, perhaps she hadn’t yet conceived a child. It’s been long since I’ve seen her in our meetings.”

“She's resting. We can’t let the child suffer any risk. After all, we want a perfect heir.” Lucius said proudly. His wife was already on her 20th week, and her belly was already noticeably round, although it was not very large.

Voldemort nodded slightly, as if thinking.

 

“Well,” He said, raising his face to Lucius and giving a slight smirk, which created something warm inside the Malfoy clan’s leader. It was impossible for someone as wonderful as the Dark Lord to do something bad. He would give up Cissa! He... “I want the child, then. After she’s born.”

Lucius's body has cooled completely, but he knew he couldn’t deny this time. He was condemning the future of his unborn child, but he knew he wouldn’t go back. He knew he couldn’t deny, because otherwise this child may not come to be born. He gulped, gave him a curt nod and said, in the firmest voice he could bring himself to. “At your will, my lord.”

__

_June 5th, 1980_

 

Lucius looked at the little creature in his wife’s arms, already cleaned and wrapped in swaddling clothes prepared exactly to the day of his birth. His head seemed to have no hair, there was no eyebrows, and he was still red and swollen, with a grimace of discomfort from have been taken from his warm and comfortable home inside his mother. But he was perfect. Five fingers on each hand, five toes on each foot, each little bone in its place, a red little mouth that was now tight in an unhappy expression. Narcissa seemed to be in the clouds, a finger stroking one of the child’s little cheeks, that was slowly easing and relaxing his face. He should be happy. It was his son, his heir. It was the main point for what he was created for. That child was the result of all his plans, was the irrefutable proof that he had won in life. But all he could think was that that boy was promised to be used by the Lord the way he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. That was enough to rip any joy he had at the time.

 

“Draco,” He awoke from his stupor, looking at the woman, who had wet eyes of an emotion that just at that moment, Lucius realized he also shared. “His name is Draco. A strong name. A strong star. Thu'Ban will protect you from all evil,” She said, looking up at her husband, a smile full of emotion. “Draco Abraxas Black-Malfoy. What do you think, darling?” Narcissa asked, and Lucius wanted to say he adored it, even without knowing who was Thu'Ban. A Black tradition, he should know, but at that moment he didn’t care, because his heart was squeezing gradually as he realized that he couldn’t protect this child. His son, his little dragon, was doomed to an uncertain future. He feared even more because he expected the baby to be a girl. It would be better, easier. A girl perhaps would please more the Lord. She could conceive, after all, and that's what Voldemort wanted. An heir to the future. He feared that the boy would be dead before his first birthday.

 

He didn’t answer. Lucius lifted a hand and touched the face of his child quietly, wondering why he had accepted that agreement. He wondered, then, why he decided to follow a man who would take from him all he had.

“Cissa... I need to tell you something.”

 

__

_June 10th, 1980_

 

The Dark Lord didn’t kill the child. No. Seeing him, so small, fragile and perfect, he decided that the fact that he was male was no problem. That was why there was magic in the world, and that was why the pureblood families still existed in the world. An ancient tome, taken from the old wrecked house of his mother, from which the Dark Lord prepared an old and strong magic ritual, to be performed perfectly by a powerful wizard. The ritual allowed a male body to conceive, and was usually used in adult men who didn’t follow the pattern of heterosexuality. There were no records of how the magic would affect the body of a baby with a few days of life, but it made no difference. The belief was that it would fit much better to his new body, almost as if he had been born with it.

It was quick, simple, without turmoil. There were present: the Lord, who performed the spell himself, the child's parents and his right arm, the potionist that created the perfect potion that would be part of that ritual and should be ingested by the child shortly after its completion. It was expected everything to be perfect. Lying on a metal table, the boy cried, fumbling his legs and arms, bothered by the cold metal and the atmosphere of black magic that was around the place. Narcissa didn’t look. Her hands were tight on each other, and she bit her own teeth hard, trying to remember her place. Trying to remember that she was a pureblood, that what her master wanted, he should have. She just hoped the boy could grow. That he could have a childhood. That he could be loved.

Soon the words were said in a sibilant drawl that was _parseltongue_. Snape poured the potion between the child's lips, causing him to drink more than necessary just to have a guarantee of success. The child cried even more, the magic taking care of his body and changing, transforming it, although outwardly he remained the same. Shortly after, he fainted, as if asleep. The ritual was over.

Before leaving the room, however, Voldemort touched Lucius' shoulder, saying in a low tune.

“Don’t worry, Lucius. I'm not hurry. Not yet.” He spoke, and departed, leaving the Malfoy leader back while Narcissa cradled her son in her chest and took him out of that ominous place.

__

_October 31st, 1991_

 

“The Dark Lord has fallen!” Lucius heard from his desk, where he expected the news of the new venture of his master. He looked at Snape, who widened his eyes and immediately approached the man who gave the news, a pureblood, but without any prestige.

“How?” The potionist asked, incredulously. They planned it for months. The damn gryffindor traitor had spoken all. It was impossible that anything had gone wrong.

“Details are... They are strange, no one knows what happened. We only saw a burst of light and Potter’s house exploded. Everybody ran and...”

He didn’t finish. Snape disapparated the second he heard about the house of Potters exploding, and Lucius turned to the remaining man.

“How was it?” He asked firmly, and the man took a deep breath.

“I don’t know” He spoke, trembling. “I didn’t get to see. No one remain to see. Whatever was in that house, knocked our Lord. Imagine what that could do with us?”

Lucius looked at the table where he was, shaking hands planted on mahogany beneath him, not knowing whether he felt angry for having lost his master, or feel joy for having saved his son. He looked at Narcissa, who was holding the boy, just a year and a month old, in her arms, his large and curious gray eyes looking at him, his hair, so blond and so thin that looked like he had very little hair. The eyebrows were almost transparent. The woman hugged the boy against her chest, kissed his head and stroked his back.

“Thu'Ban is taking care of you, baby” She said quietly, but he could hear. “Thu'Ban will always take care of you.”

__

_June 30th, 1995_

The school was full of grief. All year of banners and flags that should have been exceptionally happy, were black, demonstrating how they had been affected. It was a farewell, not only of that school year, but of a lifetime. Draco felt his hands shaking while he played with one of the buttons that he helped to make this year. "Support Cedric Diggory". He had done it mainly to annoy Potter, but now that button had a new meaning. He looked up, watching Dumbledore on his platform.

 

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight, but first I must acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here, enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise you glasses, to Cedric Diggory." The headmaster said, and the disturbing silence was replaced by the drag of goblets, clink of glasses, and unison voiced chanting "Cedric Diggory", echoing in the air. Draco felt worse because his voice was among the others, and his cup was lifted in the air, as well as the other Slytherins.

 

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish the Huffelpuff house.” the headmaster continued as soon as everybody was sat. “He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about." Draco looked up, staring fixedly at the face of Dumbledore. His father always informed him how the man had been the worst thing to Hogwarts, and for so long, Draco believed him. But at that moment... At that moment he didn’t know what to believe, and his heart felt crushed between his other organs as he heard the headmaster speak again. "Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

 

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

 

Draco was feeling the tension building in his entire body. The restlessness was taking over his body, and he needed to do something or he would fall apart. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle, because he needed to say anything, and said in a whispered tone.

“Prepare yourselves. He will talk about Potter at any time.” He said, and the two giggled, causing the grip on the blonde's chest to diminish a little, but not vanish completely. He turned his eyes to Potter at the Gryffindor table, and could see that he was furious.

 

“There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric’s death,” Dumbledore went on. “I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter.”

 

 

“Told ya”, Draco said, and received a little push from Goyle on his shoulder.

 

“Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort,” said Dumbledore. “He risked his own life to return Cedric’s body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honour him.” Dumbledore raised his glass towards Potter and Draco looked again, trying to think about everything that was happening. His mind was empty and confused at the time, but he tried not to think too much. Many students followed suit as Dumbledore honoured Potter in the same way they did to Diggory, but Draco didn’t notice, as lost as he was in his thoughts. He didn’t rose or touched his glass, and his closest colleagues followed his example and remained seated, as a kind of riot against the Boy Who Lived.

 

“The Triwizard Tournament’s aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort’s return — such ties are more important than ever before.” Draco was only hearing, his index finger touching slightly at the edges of his cup as he listened to the words of the headmaster as a distant mantra. "Every guest in this Hall will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open. It is my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst. Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort.”

 

 

Draco looked up, and for a few seconds, his eyes found Potter’s before the Gryffindor looked away.

 

 

“Remember Cedric Diggory."

 

__

 

_October, 1995_

 

That summer, Lucius and Narcissa revealed all what Draco should know about himself, his destiny and what he should do. Voldemort was really back, and he was sold as a slave, as a property to be pregnant and give an heir to the Dark Lord. He didn’t feel worse for it because he knew it had saved his mother from that cruel fate, but now that Voldemort was back, he didn’t have any choice but to accept his destiny.

Or... To be a spy.

His hands were sweating, and he was trying to find the right words to do what he wanted. Granger and Weasley were at the next table in the library, oblivious to Draco and, fortunately, loud enough to be heard. He still didn’t like Potter’s sidekicks, Weasley being a complete ignorant of the traditional wizarding customs and Granger... well, being who she was. Exceptional in everything, always aiming to be the best at school and earning perfect scores. But Draco couldn’t let his fate be drawn as if he were a doll, made to serve and obey. He didn’t ask for this fate, and didn’t want to be used by the Lord as a bitch made to reproduce. With this certainty, he got up from the table where he was and walked to the table where the two were sitting, pulling up a chair and sitting on the edge, with Weasley and Granger on both sides.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Weasley asked in an acid and defensive tone, making Draco have to control the urge to roll his eyes.

“Granger.” He directed himself to the person with the reasonable mind. “I heard the your conversation. And...” He kept his gaze locked with Granger’s deep brown irises, gulping before continuing. “I want to join you.”

 

“What are you up to, Malfoy?” Weasley asked, holding his arm and looking at him angrily. “Believe me, if you say anything to anyone...”

“Weasley, I know it may seem from another world for you, but not everyone is a pathetic fool forever. Some people change.” Draco said, and turned his eyes to Granger once again. “After what happened at the end of the tournament... I... I realized I spent a lot of time being a Malfoy, and too little being Draco.” He continued, shaking hands on the table, without looking away. “I'm willing to teach you everything I know. I admit that Potter knows a lot about Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I know about the Dark Arts itself. I can teach what it is, and I can teach you to combat it.”

 

Weasley was about to say something, but Granger raised a hand, looking at him intently before pointing a blank parchment for him to sign.

“I hope I don’t regret this, Malfoy.” She said, and her voice had a low, threatening tone, and he instinctively recoiled, fearing another blow from the witch.

__

Potter initially was against Malfoy joining the Army, but soon enough it was proved fruitful. Draco really knew the dark arts, and how to fight it. He also uttered sarcastic remarks and teased the raven-haired boy mercilessly, but generally contained the name-calling to the leader, not the other colleagues. He was pervaded when he needed to learn, and was patient when he needed to teach. Little by little, the relationship with other colleagues became more friendly. Even if the initial reaction was of awareness, his image among the others was gradually changing. He was really changed, it seemed, and the other members of the Army relied on his knowledge of the subject.

Umbridge, on the other hand, was being a complete cunt.

One of the nights, when everyone had gone and only the golden trio was behind organizing the Room of Requirement for the next class, Draco joined them with news.

“Umbridge wants to summon students to search for the Army.” Draco said, and Potter looked at him from where he was, pushing the practice dolls which were trained to their places.

“We know that.” He said, and Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes he forgot that he was dealing with Gryffindors.

“You want to be a spy.” Granger said, and approached him with caution. In the weeks they trained together, the two realized they had the same desire to learn, and were interested in the same subjects. Many nights they talked animatedly about potions or Theory of Magic, which they attended together, as well as Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. He wasn’t surprised by the fact she deducted it, because he expected it from Granger.

“I think it would be useful for all of us. If she's still doing this with Potter” he pointed to the hand of the brunet, where the red and ugly mark where he could read the words "I must not tell lies" was still raw. “That means she wants to do worse in the future. We need to know what it is... Besides, I have to train for what I will do in the future.”

“You... You won’t be one of them, are you?” Weasley asked, and in his voice there was some concern. With the time spent in the red-haired company, Malfoy realized he was the type that get pissed off really quickly, but that didn’t keep any grudge for a long time if there was no reason. Draco clucked his tongue, shoving his hands in his pockets when Potter approached them.

It was so hard to be close to him now. On his first year, all he wanted was to be friends with that famous wizard who had the same age as himself. Now, that he was side by side with Potter, he felt that the pressure was too big to handle. Standing next to him and be his friend meant to renounce. Draco wasn’t really ready for it. He wasn’t ready to leave his past, his family, to go alongside Potter as Granger and Weasley would. Still, his heart had grown enough to admire the wizard. He was extremely powerful, and at the same time modest, patient, careful. Even with Draco, who sometimes would be frustrated when he couldn’t properly cast a spell and would snap at others.

Draco was afraid to get lost because of the confusion growing in his chest.

“I have no choice, Weasley.” Draco said, looking straight at him. “I'm still underage and have to do what my parents want. What they've always wanted. Besides... What do you think You-Know-Who would do to my family if he found out that I abandoned them to follow Potter?” He asked, nodding at Harry. “They are not the world's best parents, but I still love them.”

He didn’t expect to have said such sentimental words, not to Weasley of all people, but that made Potter touch him on his shoulder and gently press his tenseness, making Draco completely relax into the firm and warm touch.

 

“Take his name off the list, Hermione.” Harry Potter said in a serious tone. “Draco will be our Secret Agent.” And then he smiled. At that moment, Draco realized that the world could be destroyed after seeing that smile. Especially when it was directed at him.

 

After joining the Inquisitorial Squad, Draco began to appear very little in the meetings of the Army. Having to live as two, he eventually had to give up the one that would bring him less danger as doing so, following his fellow Slytherins together to join Umbridge when she recruited them. Draco began to announce the dates and times of the Squad raids with the coins, and that helped the Army to be even safer. When he couldn’t be at meetings, after everyone went to their dormitories, he met in the Room of Requirement with Potter, Weasley and Granger, and they practiced the spells of the day together. Usually Dobby would bring food for them, and Draco ended up finding an excellent chess partner in Ron Weasley.

When they started trying to do the Patronus charm, Draco gradually became more frustrated. Potter could make a substantial patronus since he was 13 years old. Ginevra Weasley managed to make hers virtually the first time, as well as Granger, Ron Weasley and Lovegood. It infuriated him, because even Longbottom could do some glossy foams from the tip of his wand, and Draco...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

He thought of his mother telling him bedtime stories. He thought of his father teaching him Quidditch. He thought of the childhood games with Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson. The big problem was that most of the happy memories triggered a series of sad and scary memories, and he would easily lose his focus.

“You need a good memory, a very happy one.” Harry once said, when only he and Draco were in the Room. Harry became used to staying behind to get information and help Draco with his patronus, which so far was the only spell that Draco hadn’t been able to cast. “The memory that helped me make my first, was when I found out I was a wizard.” Harry said, but Draco let out a snort.

“I always knew I was a wizard, Potter.” He said, feeling Potter's body too close. Couldn’t he talk to him a little bit away from where he was? Draco couldn’t concentrate with the heat and the smell that came from him, and the presence of Potter in general.

“Well, you must have other memories. Some birthday party? A gift that you wanted to have? Best summer vacation?” Harry was asking, and Draco relaxed his shoulders, trying to remember his good memories. Potter was right in front of him, and Draco laughed lightly as he realized that Harry was at least four fingers shorter than him. “What is it, Malfoy?”

 

The blond only laughed harder, shaking his head.

“You are there, so seriously teaching... And at the same time, you are so tiny, just like a puppy...” Draco taunted, and Harry pushed his shoulder, making him almost laugh.

“At least I have some muscle, Malfoy, unlike certain people I know.” He said, trying to look angry, but Draco just smiled even more.

“Have I already said you look like a garden gnome, Potter?” Draco teased further, stepping away from the dark-haired teen when he pulled out his wand with a threatening side smirk.

“I'll show you the garden gnome... _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry stepped forward, but Draco jumped to the opposite direction and launched him a _Tarantallegra_ , that Harry escaped with a leap, throwing him a stinging hex, which went over his head. A series of spells followed the first ones, and despite being concentrated in the duel, they were smiling, a good animosity growing from those curses and spells casted against each other.

It didn’t take long before Harry gave up his wand and decided it was better to attack the blond with his own hands. With a successful "expelliarmus", he disarmed the blond, and leaving no time for him to recover from the shock, he charged towards Draco and grabbed him by the waist, knocking him to the floor with a loud thump. Instead of trying to get rid of him, Malfoy began to laugh out loud, his body thrown to the ground, until gradually the laughter decreased. When he opened his eyes, Harry was over him, his hands resting on the sides of his body, one leg between his, knees supporting the weight of his body.Within seconds, Draco felt Harry’s breath against his lips, and immediately was difficult to think. It was difficult to formulate any coherent sentence because Harry Potter was close enough to kiss him.

“Can I...?” Harry asked with a hoarse voice, and Draco didn’t get the strength to respond. He only raised a hand, held him by the neck and closed the space between their lips, touching them gently. It wasn’t his first kiss. He had experienced some with Pansy, though they weren’t the world's best kisses, but Potter was so stiff and unresponsive that Draco was sure that it was his first. Then he moved his lips carefully, holding his lower lip between his own and sucking lightly, making Harry let out a deep breath and finally - _finally_ \- return the kiss. Their lips moved against each other, carefully, with curiosity, as if it was something so precious that it could break. There was no tongue, only the hot and humid feeling of moving mouths.Gradually they pulled away. Draco's head hit the floor once again, but he didn’t remove his hand from Harry’s neck, fingers tangling up against the black threads of his nape, incredibly soft to the touch. He didn’t expect that one day he would be there, alone in the Room of Requirement, and that he had just kissed the Golden Boy, but that was the reality now, and it was wonderful. His heart was full of genuine joy, and when Harry smiled, a smile that reached his eyes with a true feeling rarely seen by the Slytherin, he found out he now had the perfect memory for his patronus.

__

Harry didn’t expect the Army to be hidden for so long, and just before Easter, coins heated up with the code numbers that indicated they had been discovered. Draco wasn’t among them, he had been forced to participate in a raid with the Inquisitorial Squad that appeared in the Room before Harry could get out. Marietta Edgecombe was among them, and the words of Hermione’s hex shone on her forehead in ugly pustules. Draco wore a smirk, but Harry knew he had been the one that warned them in time so everybody could get away... Everyone except Harry.

Apparently Marietta was silent about the fact that Draco was a spy, perhaps because she was not all against the Army, but was afraid of something personal. After that, everything fell apart. Dumbledore took the blame for the Army, managed to escape, but still had an arrest warrant. The twins stomped out of the school, Umbridge was launched to the centaurs, Grope saved the boys. As Draco was a spy for them, Harry tried harder to learn Occlumency, and the dreams of the Lord's actions became much less frequent, and eventually, non-existent. He didn’t want Voldemort to discover that Draco was on the light side, much less that he and Harry had... Well, a _fling_. He couldn’t say they were lovers. Sometimes when they were alone at night, they exchanged a few kisses, some more enthusiastic, others quieter, but most of the time, they just took advantage of the company that one could offer the other.

__

_September, 1996_

Harry and Draco didn’t exchange letters in the summer. Much less they talked with each other on the Hogwarts Express. In fact, even at school when Harry tried to approach him, Draco was slippery, fleeing and hiding. They never dated, Harry had to admit, but he thought that the nights hiding together, long conversations and longer kisses were still some indication that they were well. The fact is that watching Draco Malfoy has become an obsession for him. He followed all the steps of the older boy, watched him on the Marauder's Map, and constantly looking where he was from the Gryffindor table.

“He must have his reasons, Harry.” Hermione spoke, and in an ironic way, Ron agreed. They weren’t best friends with Malfoy, but the time spent together in the Army was enough to make them come to know the Slytherin and understand that he was really willing to fight on Harry’s side.

It was strange, however, that he didn’t give Harry any explanation. And along with Slughorn, and conversations about Horcruxes and conversations with Dumbledore, it was becoming more and more difficult to approach Draco. Moreover, bad things started to happen. Katie Bell was cursed, Ron poisoned, and Harry knew that Draco was behind it, so he watched, and followed him, but didn’t want to believe. He couldn’t believe it was that Draco’s doing all along.

Until the day he found him in Mirtle’s bathroom.

__

_May, 1997_

Draco was crying. His whole body was shaking and when he looked in the mirror and saw the reflection of Harry, he turned quickly, trying to wipe away the tears.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” He asked, trying to put anger in his voice, but failing.

“Looking for you. What happened? Why are you running away? What's going on, Draco?” Harry asked, and Draco sniffled harder, shaking his head.

“You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t understand what I have to do.” He said, pursing his lips and eyes. “He'll kill my parents, Harry... I need... I need to do this... He'll kill my parents, but he won’t kill me... He will... He will...” And then he sobbed, and his whole body shook with the force of his tears. Harry didn’t think twice before approaching him and hugging him tightly, letting him cry all he could on his shoulders.

After Draco became a little calmer, Harry took him by the hand and led him to the Room of Requirement, asking for a quiet place to stay. As they passed through the door, the place they found was extremely cosy. There was a large brown couch facing a fireplace, which crackled with a quiet fire. The light sound of rain could be heard in the room, although there were no windows, and there were some shelves with several books. Harry pulled the blond to the couch, settling the slytherin into his arms and let him calm down. Finally, Draco was soothed enough and sat quietly. He felt complete with him there, warming his cold body, stroking the blond strands, so fine and so perfect, almost like a child's. Harry let himself get so used to the moment, and was almost surprised when Draco started talking.

“He wants me to kill Dumbledore.” He said in a small voice, as if with a huge fear of speaking too loudly. Harry tightened his grip, but let him continue. “I tried several indirect ways. I tried to make him fall just dead of fright, but I can’t. I... I'm not good at it, Harry.” Draco said, and his breath began to get out of rhythm. He sat straighter, looking into Harry's eyes and trying to find the right words. He could see the fear in his eyes, and Harry could feel the stress in every word. “He'll use me. He’ll use me as a bitch and throw me to the side. I was born for this. It is only a matter of time... And if I fail... If I fail then I fear it will come faster than I thought it to be.”

“Draco... We can always help... Do not worry, Dumbledore can...” Harry began, but was interrupted.

“If Dumbledore doesn’t die... I die. And if he doesn’t kill me, it will be much worse than that.” The blond buried his face in the younger’s chest, hands gripping hard into his shirt, as if trying to hold the only thing he could. Harry didn’t know what to say. Any situation that imagined in his head, led to the discovery that Draco was a spy and that would lead to death or a worse fate at the hands of Voldemort. At that moment, Harry felt anger. Anger because neither he nor Draco had a choice. They were in those paths, chosen by other’s decisions that should never influence them, but now governed their lives as a rigid conductor.

A heavy silence filled the air, broken only by the crackle of the fire. They reached for comfort in each other's arms, and Harry made circles on the older’s back, trying to calm his heart, even though he knew that nothing could calm him now. The dark times were coming, and he could do nothing to save him. He was just a kid, what could he do to help? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

Draco lifted his head from where he rested against Harry's chest and looked at him fondly, before leaning in and kissing him on the lips. For months Harry hasn’t felt his kisses, and soon they were again exchanging caresses, because at that time there was more than just the desire to know. There was missing, there was fear, and there was hope that the other could be his salvation.

The kiss stopped, and against Harry's lips, the blond whispered low, his eyes closed.

“Be my first, Harry... Take me... Make me forget everything that's going on, just today...” Draco asked, and Harry couldn’t help but kiss his lips again, now with more avidity, hugging him tightly and touching his tongue with Draco’s, taking as much as giving.

He rose from the couch with the blond, and asking with all the strength he could to the room to give him a bed. On one wall, a curtain materialized and Harry went to it, holding the older's hand and pulling away the fabric, observing a single room with a comfortable bed.

“Draco...” He turned to the Slytherin, holding him by the sides of his arms. “I don’t know what will happen in the future and... I don’t know if we'll have to be on opposite sides in the war...

“Harry. No matter if I'm pointing a wand at your neck with AK on the tip of my tongue.” Draco interrupted, approaching and touching his forehead to Harry’s. “No matter if I am fighting for the enemy, no matter if I will be forced to follow the orders of Voldemort. I'll _always_ be on _your_ side.”

Upon hearing that, Harry smiled, his heart filling with the same happiness he had experienced in their first kiss, and Draco smiled as well, because it was impossible to see that smile on Harry's lips and not to smile too.

“I'll take care of you, my dragon... I will always take care of you...” Harry whispered, giving him kisses on the lips as he led him to bed. That sparked some kind of a mantra in his head, and Draco remembered the words his mother always told him.

_"Thu'ban will take care of you. Thu'ban will protect you."_

She spoke of Thu'ban because that was the alpha star of the Dragon constellation, the origin of his name. But Thu'ban originally meant "the snake", and Draco couldn’t help but associate with Harry because he protected him, and he was a parselmouth. Harry was his Thu'Ban, his golden serpent, and from that moment Draco knew he was doomed because even though he was trying to stay away, it was impossible not to feel the love born in his chest, forming roots and settling, as if saying "this place is his and no one else’s". He was in love with Harry Potter, for his modest way, his leadership aura, by the desire to protect and sacrifice himself.

“My Thu'ban...” Draco muttered, as he was lying on bed. “My golden snake...” He sighed as he felt the brunet's body next to his. If Harry had noticed his words or the name by which he called, he didn’t comment on the matter. Gradually, he was stripped by the trembling hands of the younger, and knew immediately that he was also the first lover of Harry Potter. A sense of pride came over his chest together with the knowledge that he would be responsible for taking Saint Potter’s virginity, and his lips formed a smile that Harry returned without even knowing the reason for its existence.

He allowed Harry to undress him, and watched as Harry took his own clothes off. Harry was not an exceptional boy. He was so thin that it was possible to see the lines of his ribs, even if you could also see his abdominal muscles. He had more body hair than Draco, and that caused him a feeling of oddity, though he found that his body had a certain charm about the happy trail running into his pants. His hair was messed up, and it was strange to see him without glasses, but still, Draco couldn’t resist dragging his hands over his tanned skin, moving from the chest up to the neck and pulling him into a kiss, without worrying about if it was right or wrong. At that time, he just wanted to completely give himself to Harry Potter, without any fear, without any contradiction, without any morality or confusion. There, in that room that had united them once and now joined them again, Draco just wanted to be loved for the first, and perhaps only, time in his life.

Now they were both naked in bed, Potter over his body and kissing him with an affection that he never knew, so he let himself go. He opened his legs to accommodate the other's body on his, and moaned when he felt so much contact with his warm skin, which seemed to create a strong reaction beginning to grow in his body. He had barely begun, but already knew he wanted to feel that heat throughout his body, _inside_ his body. Draco hugged his broad shoulders, one hand gripping into his hair, his lips devouring Harry’s mouth. Harry moved over his body, the stiff member, a little smaller than Draco’s, but somewhat thicker, brushed against his cock that gradually hardened, making him moan against the Gryffindor’s mouth. He felt Harry's kisses pressing down on his skin, and Draco showed off his neck so that it was attacked and used by Harry, lips and tongue and teeth on his skin, and he knew he was marking his skin, but didn’t care. Harry gave him kisses down his chest, and he almost let out a cry of pleasure, arching his body up against his mouth, he sucked the turgid point in his chest. The brunet's tongue circled his nipple before he sucked the skin and bite down, as if experiencing. Draco’s entire body was shivering at the touch of that tongue, and the more he went down, more desperate the blond was getting. His breathing was out of rhythm, and he closed his eyes, because it seemed impossible to see and feel at the same time.

He felt Harry's breath around his groin, and felt the hesitation. He opened his eyes and leaned down on his elbows, staring at him. Harry gazed from his cock to his face, one hand gingerly resting on his thigh.

“I... I've never done this before.” Harry admitted, swallowing hard. “Do you want...?” He asked, his hand moving a few centimetres towards the blond’s cock, hard and lying over his belly, the thin blond hair encircling it gently. Draco licked his dry lips, and smiled slightly, as if to assure him.

“I haven’t either, Potter, so it's good to surprise me.” He said, trying to sound arrogant, even with a voice so full of pleasure and anticipation.

When Harry's mouth took his cock into the velvety wetness of it, Draco couldn’t handle the high and surprised groan, and the smile that appeared on his lips as he moved his hips up against that place so hot and wet. Harry couldn’t take all, but it was a wonderful feeling, the saliva dripping, hands clutching his thighs tightly, marking his skin a little more. However, this was his first time and he was already close to the limit.

“Stop... Stop... I want to taste you too...” Draco spoke, breathing hard as he pushed the dark-haired boy so that he was sitting on the bed. He laid face down, resting his weight on his elbows and, with one hand, he grabbed Harry cock and placed it into his mouth, bluntly, no games. It was really thick, now that he had it in his mouth, but at the same time so delicious to suck as deep as he could, feel the weight on his tongue, the wonderful friction to pull it in and out and Potter’s groans that filled the room every time Draco went back and forth, Always licking a little more, always watering a little more. With a few movements, he realized he liked it. He liked to feel Harry’s cock in his mouth, its texture and its shape, the way he trembled beneath him and as his cock throbbed as Draco sucked with a little more force.Those movements made him think how much he wanted that cock inside him. He pulled back a little, looking up at the dark-haired teen, smiling with a certain malice, Draco returned to lean on the mattress with his belly up and opening his legs in an obvious invitation.

“I want you... inside me...” Draco said, and licked his lips again. Harry watched for a few seconds, as if lost in fascination, and moved to the bedside table, looking for something and returned with a bottle of lube in one hand. He opened the bottle, poured some of the liquid on his fingers and put it on the table still open, and took his place between the blond's legs. He ran his fingers through his perineum first and then down to the cleft between his buttocks, seeking the anus that at this point throbbed slightly in anticipation. Harry massaged the entrance with a lubricated finger, easing one of them halfway, making Draco let out a surprised gasp, his whole body shivering again. After a few moves to find comfort, a second finger joined the first, and this time Draco felt a slight burning. He opened his legs to relieve tension, and Potter took that as a sign to move forward, thrusting deeper.

That, however, caused Draco to almost leap off of the bed, an electric current taking over his body.

“Again...! It is... again...! A-Aah...!” He cried, and his body begged the sensations that only the fingers of the brunet caused him. Harry began to increase the pace, and at a certain point slipped a third finger, Draco practically howled from pleasure, fidgeting his sweaty body on the bed and holding the base of his penis, struggling not to reach his orgasm. “Come on, I need you inside me, please, Potter, please, just ...” He practically begged, and Harry only took enough time to pick up the bottle of lube again and wet his entire cock with it, stroking lightly and leaving it completely slippery.

Harry lined up over Draco’s body, a hand helping to guide his cock to the blond's entrance. He let out a low moan when the tip passed the tight ring, and his eyes focused on the pleasure-stricken face of Draco, the member going deeper and deeper until it was completely inside. Harry hugged him, his mouth going to his neck once again, kissing, biting and licking, as fast and as euphoric as the thrusts of his body in Draco’s. Draco's legs were wrapped around his waist, and soon they were in a delicious and steady pace, the room flooded by the moans and groans of the two.

“Let me ride you...” Draco asked, and pushed the dark-haired boy so he fell back on the bed. He sat on his lap, going down completely on his cock and opening his lips while his eyes squeezed shut, but no sound came out of his mouth. After the initial burst of pleasure, he put his hands on Harry's thighs and began to ride him up and down, riding him with a small smile on his lips, his eyes fixed on Harry’s green ones, sweat running down his skin.

“Damn... Draco... That... Ride on my cock... Yess...” Harry's hands held him by the hips, and with a force that Draco didn’t expect he had, began to thrust into him at his own pace, making the blond yell at the firm fucking over his prostate. He soon picked up the pace, his hair falling in his eyes, faster, deeper, more... more... more...

“Fuck! Potter...! Damn, I'll ... I'll ...” He couldn’t finish. Semen streams came out of his cock as he shook with the most intense orgasm of his life. Harry looked at him, absorbed, and the inner walls of Draco’s body squeezed so hard that he was milked of his orgasm, making him spill his seed into the blond, filling him with the hot and plentiful liquid.

Draco fell over him, breathing heavily and out of rhythm. He braced his hands on the bed, feeling the brunet’s cock slip out of his body and the liquid to dribble out slightly.

“Again...?” He asked with a chuckle, and Harry just smiled back at him. He was so absorbed in the love he discovered he had for Draco that, even after the two rounds of sex after the first, Harry didn’t notice the black mark that stained the Slytherin’s skin.

__

_June, 1997_

Dumbledore was dead. He was dead and it hadn’t been Draco who killed him, even though it should. Snape had. Snape, who had promised Narcissa that he would protect her son. Draco had been successful in putting the Death Eaters into the castle, and now they had their ways to the victory. It was his fault. He could’ve been stronger, he could’ve been firmer.

Now, locked in his room, in his home, Draco was shaking in pure fear. Somewhere in the Manor, Voldemort was rejoicing in the victory of Dumbledore’s death and Snape had managed to distract him about the fact that Draco had not done his job until the end. Until when?

Especially now.

He heard the secret door to his room opening, and sat up abruptly, feeling his head spin a little bit dizzy. It was just his mother. He took a deep breath, trying to dispel the sickness that took over him, and made room for her to sit, although not looking at her.

“Are you alright?” Narcissa asked, running a hand over his back. Draco shook his head. “Shouldn’t we be happy? The biggest supporter of Muggles and Muggle-borns is dead.”

Draco chuckled without humor, his eyes filling with tears that he fought not to spill.

“Yes. He is.” He confirmed, and hugged himself, trying to find comfort. “Soon I may be, too.”

Narcissa's expression changed in concern, and she moved closer to her son.

“What are you saying, dragon?” She asked, and for the first time since he arrived, Draco looked into her eyes.

“I'm pregnant.” He said, hugging himself even stronger. Her mouth opened, her eyes in shock, and he felt he needed her more than anything now.

 

“Who...?” She asked, but Draco didn’t immediately reply. He licked his lips and said in a whisper.

“Thu'ban.”

__

_April 3st, 2001_

Draco entered the headmaster's office with his head held high. His black robes rustling with a soft noise as he walked, and his hair was nicely combed, and his eyes were serious. As soon as he entered the room, Snape looked at him, and seemed nervous, sitting in his chair.

“Sir.” Draco said, respectfully, standing in front of his table.

“Someone found out.” The older man said, and Draco’s mask seemed out of place.

“Found about...?” He dared to ask. That phrase was destructive in every possible aspect. A few years ago when he discovered he was expecting Potter’s child, Draco asked for help to his mother to hide his pregnancy from the Dark Lord. It wasn’t an easy task, especially in the days when he was at the Manor, but by some sort of fate, Voldemort would like to perform all pure-blood acts of courting as possible, and that meant purity votes and binding magic. With Potter, Granger and Weasley away from Hogwarts during the last school year, making the progress of the Lord difficult because they had help from Sirius Black, the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army, Voldemort forgot about him. Or rather, he considered that it was better to delay certain plans for when Potter was dead.

Draco spent his last year at Hogwarts, threatening students but helping the other members of the Army as he could, giving medicine, extra food, potions provided by Snape, trying the most to hide his pregnancy with many layers of _glamour_ and jewels given by his mother, which further disguised his round stomach, that grew bigger over the months. During that time, he didn’t trust even his colleagues of the Army. Only Snape and Pomfrey knew his condition, and they have vowed to keep his secret at any cost. He still had a slight incision scar from the procedure that was made when his child was born, but he knew better than anyone that he should never take his robes off in front of any other Death Eater.

It was harder, however, to hide the child. The magic in his body allowed him to feed the child with his own milk, although it was so little, and it was extremely uncomfortable feel the boy's mouth sucking his nipples, now too sensitive. Snape helped him with potions so that the boy had the strength to grow, but the worst were the raids that the Death Eaters made every week to check his quarters. Talented as he was, during his pregnancy, Draco had made a trunk, that allowed only him to see its contents. Any other to open the object, would see just fine folded clothes, some ties and quills. He made sure to change the appearance of trunk’s contents every week, so there were no suspicions. When the boy was born, during the raids, he put him in the trunk, along with a silencing spell. The trunk prevented Death Eaters from seeing the boy, but it did not prevent the child to see the Death Eaters.

Today, at age three, the boy panicked whenever they appeared.

Draco had taught him all he could. Sign language for when he couldn’t speak, taught him to hide in the trunk if Draco wasn’t in his room and someone got inside. He taught calling for Dobby if he was alone for a long time and was hungry - with the addendum that the elf had promised not to say anything about the child, and keep him company. And if none of this would work, there was a secret passage in the back of his room that he had taught the boy how to use. If he couldn’t hide, couldn’t call or protect himself, he should run and hide anywhere else.

Being the Potion’s professor, Draco was in a relatively comfortable position, but still, he felt his heart sink. If they found out about his son... if they found out about...

“The Lord knows about the child. And he is... Extremely disappointed.” Snape said, and Draco swallowed, feeling nauseous and sick in the same second.

“There is no child.” He said, as if he had rehearsed those words for a very long time.

“Amycus and Alecto are searching your quarters now. I believe that you should have hidden all child items?” Snape asked, and Draco hands trembled. All clothes, shoes, toys, were always hidden in the trunk. It was impossible for Amycus and Alecto to have found out about it, but surely they would look into the clothes that appeared in the trunk. The spell was strong enough that they wouldn’t pass the barrier that showed the real space of the object, but Draco feared that, possibly... Possibly they would find something.

“There is nothing to be found.” Said Draco, and Snape nodded.

 

“They want me to keep you here for at least fifteen minutes so that they can look at every corner of your room. I know you want to go to him as soon as possible, but calm down and wait. You trained him well and we can’t show our true alliances. If this happens... Certainly Thuban will be killed.

Draco gulped and sat, clasping his hands together and trying to calm himself. Nothing would happen. Everything was right. Nothing would happen. Everything was right.

__

During their last year at school, the Dumbledore's Army gathered in the Room of Requirement, as in all previous meetings, and that was where Harry was going. The last Horcrux had to be destroyed, and the events that followed after the permission of the capture and execution of Muggle-borns prevented him from going to Hogwarts to get the last one: the tiara of Rowena Ravenclaw.

Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Ginny and Cho were fighting along with the other members of the Army as an addition to the Order of the Phoenix, rescuing Muggle-borns and taking them to a safe place, where they were creating a small society so they could live in secret. Harry accepted to be their Secret Keeper, and knew that, at the moment, they were safe. Hermione was working along with Luna as a healer in camp, healing the wounded and helping those who needed their help. Several battles were fought in the mean time, most Horcruxes were destroyed, including Nagini, killed by the sword of Gryffindor wielded by the hands of Neville during the battle for the occupation of Hogwarts, which was lost by Harry's followers, but luckily there were few casualties.

Now, Harry was there, running under his invisibility cloak, looking carefully at all sides while going towards the Room of Requirement. During the first battle of Hogwarts, the Marauder's map was captured by Snape and Harry never saw it again, so now he had to be way more careful than before. In a turn however, he had to stop abruptly. In the middle of the long hallway was a child. And not a first year. It was a toddler, no more than three years old, looking around and seeming lost. His cheeks were red and wet, and the blue eyes were wide with fear. He had black, unruly hair, with undone curls, and was wearing a green jumper with an embroidery of Unicorn. His trousers looked too formal for a little child, and he was wearing just socks. Harry looked around, wondering how a child ended up here, he approached him slowly, taking the risk of opening his cloak slightly, startling the boy a little.

“Hey, hey... I won’t hurt you,” He said, kneeling next to him. “I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?”

The boy's eyes widened even more, as if he knew exactly who Harry Potter was, but he shook his head.

“Don’t know.” He said with a petite voice, husky of crying, and Harry bit his lip.

“Who is your mother? Your father?” He asked, and the boy pressed his mouth together.

“Don’t know.” The child said, now with some anger, brows narrowing in a familiar way, but Harry couldn’t grasp exactly why.

“Okay, okay, you don’t want to answer me” He sucked on his tongue, looking around again, wary, always expecting an attack from behind. “Are you lost?”

This time the boy looked at him and nodded, sniffling a bit. Harry began to feel other presences approaching, because his magic had become extremely sensitive to others, and a sense of urgency took over.

“Look, let's do this... You come here under my invisible cloak and I'll take you to a cool place, ok?” Harry tried to convince the child, knowing he should leave the boy there, and that he probably was the son of a Death Eater who now ruled the school, but he couldn’t leave such a small child behind.

“And the bad guys are not going to get me?” The boy asked, and Harry shook his head, hearing footsteps.

“No. Now you have to be very quiet, okay?” He asked, and the little boy nodded. Harry caught him with one arm and covered them both with the cloak, just when the Carrow siblings came down the hall. The boy hid his face on Harry’s chest, squinting and growing very still, barely breathing, and Harry didn’t move. The brothers seemed nervous about something, but they didn’t change their path. The longest seconds of his life passed, and Harry began to follow the path to the Room of Requirement with the boy in his arms.

Upon arriving at the seventh floor corridor, Harry asked for a place to stay with the child. As he walked in front of the wall for the third time, the door materialized and the brunet came in, smiling as he saw how the place was. It was a large room with a fireplace, a comfortable couch and a comfy rug on the floor. There was more in the background: a single bed, large enough so that they could sleep comfortably, and next to, various toys scattered in different colours shelves, as well as a dresser. Harry removed the cloak and put the boy on the ground, who immediately began to check the room.

“Are you _really_ Harry?” The boy asked, and Harry nodded, sitting on the carpet with his legs crossed, now at the same height as the toddler.

“Yes, I am. Won’t you tell me your name?” Harry asked again, and the boy shook his head. “So what can I call you?”

The child thought for a while, putting a chubby hand on his chin and narrowing his eyes, before deciding.

“You can call me Snake.” He said, very seriously, and Harry laughed.

“Are you a little Slytherin, then?” He questioned, and the boy laughed, shaking his head.

“My papa said I only looked like one, but that I was a lion inside! Rawr!” The boy moved his hands like little paws, and then giggled, sitting on the floor in front of Harry.

“Who's your papa, Snake?” Harry asked, and the boy shook his head. “Can’t say?”

Snake refused again, looking away into the fire, a pout forming on his red mouth. His eyes were sad again and he sighed.

“I can only say when the bad guys are gone.” The boy said, and then fell silent for a moment.

“What are you doing here at Hogwarts, Snake? Your papa lives here?” Harry asked, trying to get information from the boy, circumventing the rules he couldn’t break. “Do you know where you are?”

The boy looked around and shrugged, genuinely without an answer.

“I live here.” He said, and Harry lifted a hand to the boy, trying to put a lock of hair in place, a curl that insisted on falling over his forehead rebelliously.

“Since when?” Harry insisted. “Have you lived elsewhere?”

Snake shook his head, fingers playing with the edge of his jumper, toes moving inside the socks.

“I want my papa...” he said, and sniffed, his eyes filling with tears as he started crying. Harry didn’t resist. He pulled the boy into his arms and cradled him until he fell asleep from exhaustion.

__

Draco rummaged around in the trunk where the child should be, but found nothing. He searched under the bed, inside closets, between the sheets. He was in his quarters since the Carrow siblings appeared in Snape's office, saying nothing had been found, but that they would continue to look for anything and that he should not fool the Dark Lord. Draco felt his heartbeat in his hands now. What could he do? The boy could have possibly used the secret passage and was alone in the halls of Hogwarts, with the risk of being found by someone. Unless...

He returned to the trunk, stretching his whole arm inside the object, looking for something that was under all the layers of clothes and blankets for his baby. Sometimes he forgot it existed, so long he didn’t use. It was too dangerous.

His hand emerged holding a palm-sized clock. He took his wand and murmured softly "revelio" showing its hands and locations. He himself had created the object. There were four hands, which showed the locations of the most important people in his life. It was dangerous in the hands of anyone but him, and he should’ve broken that clock long ago, but some nights he couldn’t sleep without observing the object.

The hands of his mother and his father pointed together to "Malfoy Manor" and the other two... The one for Thuban pointed to Hogwarts. And Harry Potter’s too. Draco's heart began to beat out of rhythm, and he hit the clock twice with his wand, directly above the hands, and another word appeared above Hogwarts: It was possible to read _"safe place."_ Frustrated, he tested the same command in the hands of his parents. Above "Malfoy Manor" appeared: _"Dining Room"_ and _"Library"_. The spell was working, then it should show where the hell Potter and Thuban were! He hit above the hands again, and again the clock informed _"Safe Place"_.

He sat on the bed with the clock in his hands. If Thuban was anywhere Hogwarts, the clock would reveal the room, the floor. If it didn’t show, it was because it was a place that couldn’t be detected. And if the clock showed only one place... Draco observed the hands again, passing his thumb over the smiling picture of Potter. Heavens, he hadn’t seen him for so many years... He wondered every day if Harry still liked him, if he still cared. He swallowed. _Potter_ had found Thuban, and taken him to a safe place. And he had no idea that the boy was his son, which only made Draco become even more nervous. He vanished the hands and words of the clock and put it again in the trunk, closing the lid.

Potter didn’t know that Thuban was his son, but the boy knew Potter was his other father. Draco always made a point of saying that he could only rely on himself, Snape and Potter, but also trained the boy to never reveal his name or of whom he was son, or the bad guys would take him away. It was cruelty using his child’s fear to make him keep a secret, but it was better than putting everything in danger. To put _him_ in danger.

Draco laid in bed. He knew he couldn’t sleep, so he began thinking. The next day, the first thing he would do was to look for Potter and his safe place.

__

_April 4th, 2001_

Harry woke with a persistent noise, and little hands that pushed him from where he was. He took a while to wake up, opening his eyes slowly and facing Snake, who was sitting in front of him with his hair even more messed up than before.

“I'm hungry.” The boy said, jumping on the bed and pushing Harry even more. “Dobby can’t hear me here, and I want food!”

“Dobby?” Harry asked, still half asleep, sitting on the bed.

“When I'm alone and I am hungry, I call Dobby and he gives me what I want. But he can’t hear me here.” Snake said, as if talking to a very slow person, and Harry couldn’t help but remember Draco when he tried, for the tenth time, teaching a wrist movement that for him was as easy as breathing.

“Well, I can go to the kitchens and bring something to you.” Harry said, getting up and going to a room next to the bedroom, which he found out the night before to be a bathroom. There were toothbrushes and soap, a bath and several fluffy towels. Snake followed hopping behind, and Harry pulled up a stool that was under the sink, placing him on. “But first, we need to brush your teeth and...”

“I can do it by myself!” The boy said, stretching one little arm to pick up a small toothbrush, and shaking it so Harry would put on the toothpaste. Harry did, with a chuckle, and the boy began brushing almost methodically, first down, then up, then several circles around the tiny teeth. Harry followed suit and also brushed his teeth, washing his and the boy's mouths, as well as the toothbrushes, before taking him off the stool.

“I wanna pee!” Snake complained, and Harry pulled the stool closer to the toilet, watching the boy fight with his trousers.

“Let me,” Harry bent down in front of him, feeling strange to do this, but opened the boy's trousers and helped him lift the shirt he wore - white, simple - so he could relieve himself.

All ready, washed hands and trousers closed, Harry prepared to leave. He picked up his cloak and looked at the boy who accompanied him. He knelt in front of him and tried to comb his hair with his fingers, but it didn’t help much. He smiled at the thought that his father would have done the same with him, if he was still alive.

“I'll need to leave, okay? You can play with any of the toys on the shelves. I won’t be long, I promise.” Harry said, and the boy crossed his arms, looking at him steadily.

“I'm not a baby! I can take care of myself!” He declared, and the Harry couldn’t resist laughing at how cute the child was, he pulled him up into his arms and ticked his belly.

“You are a huge and dangerous lion!” He said, making the boy laugh and squirm, trying to get away from his hands. Harry forgot that he needed to pick up food, or that he was in the middle of a war. When the boy got out of his arms and ran to the bedroom, Harry ran after him, grabbing him around the waist and throwing him into the air, making Snake laugh harder, clinging to him.

“So you say you're not a baby? Then I won’t bring you the milk that you asked me last night. Big people don’t drink chocolate milk.” Harry said, holding the boy lying in his arms, his jet-black hair falling down and dimples in his cheeks forming whenever he laughed.

“I'm a _big_ baby.” Snake corrected, and Harry laughed, blowing the exposed part of his stomach that appeared between his shirt and his trousers, making the boy shake and laugh even more, trying to push Harry’s head away.

“All right, _big_ baby. I will bring your milk.” Harry said, putting him on the bed.

“And cheese sandwich with _no_ ham!” The boy announced, and Harry nodded.

“No ham!” Harry put on his cloak, feeling a slight pain in his chest to leave the boy alone, but reminded himself that he would only go to the kitchen to grab some food and soon he would be back.

__

The only place that could be described as what appeared on his clock, was the Room of Hidden Things. However, he had to wait. There were lessons to be taught and students to be abused, although he always pretended more than actually did it. The former members of the Army left apprentices who taught others and made a force of resistance at Hogwarts, though less united than the previous. There were very few students in recent years, most of them pure-blood children who supported the Dark Lord, and others who simply had no other place to go. Those suffered more, and learnt to repeat words of hatred against Potter, half-bloods and muggle-borns.

Only when he had time to retire to his quarters Draco tried to enter the room again. However, no matter how many times he thought about it, how many times he passed down the hall, it didn’t appear. He tried to relax, tried to calm himself, but it was his son. It was the boy who he had raised against all odds, that he had to train since the boy learned to sit so that he wasn’t taken from him, and now he was lost. His clock said he was with Potter in a "Safe Place", but it wasn’t enough to calm him. He would only feel good when he had his child in his arms again.

__

_April 17th, 2001_

 

Harry had created a routine. In the morning, he bathed with Snake, sneaked to the kitchens, picked up his breakfast, often already prepared by Dobby, and returned to the Room of Requirement. He spent the morning with the boy, playing with him and telling him long lost stories. It was impossible not to fall in love with him, not to want to have him in his arms all the time. Despite his young age, Snake looked like a little adult. He spoke very well, and was quite behaved as expected of a rich and pureblooded kid. Harry wondered constantly about who was the boy's father, and why he never mentioned a mother. Also he wondered who had so much willpower to teach a child - no more than a toddler - to keep so many secrets. Those were really dark times, and apparently, what the boy feared most of all were the Death Eaters.

After lunch, Harry would put him to take a nap and watch him for a while. The boy had a good amount of baby fat, chubby cheeks and was big for his age. He had long fingers, delicate hands and Harry could see him growing and becoming a pianist. The boy's hair sometimes resembled their own, although the curls of Snake's hair were more defined than his. He would sleep quietly, and Harry would get out and do what he needed. He observed the routines of the Death Eaters, now teachers. He watched the students, the coming and going of Voldemort's messengers, and as Amycus and Alecto seemed to control everything that happened at Hogwarts.

There was also Draco. God, he had become even more beautiful over time. His hair was still meticulously combed, his black robes often reminded Harry of Snape - as well as the fact that he taught potions. He watched Malfoy during his lessons, and how students respected him. It wasn’t fear, as they had with the other Death Eaters teachers, nor despair, as the students showed when they were with the older teachers of Hogwarts. For Draco, there was admiration for the way he spoke, or how he indicated right and wrong. When the Carrow siblings watched his classes, he was way more rigid, and gave more severe punishment on his students, as if to prove his proactivity, but always seemed languishing in doing so.

He also always seemed nervous. When his classes ended, he would go to the seventh floor, and walk down the hall of the Room of Requirement, as if waiting for it to open. Harry knew it wouldn’t, since Snake was inside it, impeding it to transform into whatever Malfoy was in need, but still, Harry wondered. What did he want? Had he found out about his presence at Hogwarts and now wanted to deliver him to Voldemort? Harry always remembered the last words Draco said. That no matter what side he was during the war, he would always be beside Harry.

And that made Harry to reveal himself to Draco. Harry wanted to hug him and kiss him as he had done so many years in the past. During this time, he couldn’t stay with anyone, even when there was time. There wasn’t the desire or the will to be with someone else who wasn’t Draco, and it was killing him inside because he didn’t know if Draco was still on his side or not.

So Harry would let him go, then enter the Room of Requirement and having to deal with a very upset boy being kept waiting for so long.

Being with Snake was great. Over the days, he was increasingly getting fond of the boy. They slept together, holding each other, as if born to do it. The child still cried and asked for his papa on many nights, but Harry didn’t know what to do about it, and just snuggled him until he calmed down and forget the matter.

Spending so much time with the child also delayed his plans, and the frequent presence of the boy in the Room of Requirement prevented him from checking the Room of Hidden Things, which was where he thought that the tiara was. In the bag he had brought with him was still a basilisk fang, which he would use to break the tiara when he had it. In his bag there was also the Snitch that Dumbledore had left for him as inheritance, and the stone was still inside it. Harry never dared to use it, and didn’t know if he would ever come to do so. The fact is that he needed to destroy the Horcrux as soon as possible, even if he had to take the boy with him to do so.

__

_April 23rd, 2001_

It wasn’t possible. Draco's hands were shaking, as if he were in front of the Dark Lord at that exact moment. The door of the Room of Hidden Things was right there, in front of him, and he had only to push it. He swallowed hard, pushing the door open with a low sound. Potter had to be there. Somehow, he had to be there with his son.

He began to walk between the rows of lost objects. He looked toward the Vanishing Cabinet, noting that it was still there and feeling a chill up his spine. He tried to listen to anything and in the distance he could hear a laugh that filled his heart with hope. He walked quickly through the rows, trying to make as little noise as possible until, cautiously turning one corner, he saw the man with the boy, sitting on the floor in the dim light of an oil lamp. Potter's back was to him, and he wore a horrible blonde wig full of curls. Thuban was with some dolls in his hands, and had a beautiful smile on his lips, a smile that Draco hadn’t seen for a very long time.

“Oh no! The public is going away! We need to do something to attract everyone back! But what?!” Harry asked with a voice thinner than usual, moving the arms of a doll he had in his hands in despair.

“Let's make the trolls dance ballet!” The boy said, picking up a Troll doll, which hadn’t one leg and half an arm, and dressed it in a ballerina tutu he had taken from another doll, now threw aside. Potter began to sing an invented out of tune song while Thuban was moving the troll in a dancing motion with exaggerated movements. The "public" were other broken dolls, sitting against a pile of cotton balls, and then the troll bent to them, before releasing a high grunt and attacking the audience with his remaining arm.

Potter laughed, and Thuban looked up at him, but widened his eyes, opening his mouth. At that moment, Draco knew he had been discovered, but he didn’t intend to flee. That was exactly what he wanted.

“Papa!” Thuban screamed, and ran into Draco’s arms, throwing himself at them as if the floor was made of lava.

Harry took off the wig from his head, turning and looking at Draco, feeling his heart race without any control. Draco was there, and he was Snake’s father. He was the father of the boy that had been with him for all those days, on which he fed and bathed and slept with him.

 

Potter stood up, his eyes fixed now on the man who held his child so dearly.

“It was him you were looking for.” Harry concluded, and Draco looked up at him, nodding.

“What did he tell you, Potter?” Malfoy asked, without moving, stroking the boy's black hair with great affection. Harry was sure now that Draco really was on his side all along, and continued as a spy. No real Death Eater would hold a child so lovingly.

“Nothing useful. He didn’t tell me his name, or who was his father... You trained him well.” Harry said, and walked, not knowing whether he had to act politely or if he could hug him, which was what he wanted to do.

“No one knows about his existence. I trained him in case...” Malfoy swallowed, kissing the top of the boy's head before continuing. “In case something happened to me.”

Harry nodded, crossing his arms. For a few seconds he was silent before continuing.

“Who is his mother? Parkinson?” He asked, and that made Draco laugh out loud.

“Potter, please.” Then he turned the boy to Harry, holding his chin and pressing his cheeks. “My son is beautiful. Do you really think Pansy would have such a beautiful son like this?”

Harry couldn’t help smiling, and walked until there was less than one meter between the two.

“So... Who? What's his name?” Harry asked, and Draco looked unsure.

“It's a long story...”

“I want to know.” Harry said, and he didn’t notice the possessive tone in which he had spoke, and he regretted saying so as soon as the phrase left his lips. “I mean... If you want to talk.”

Draco looked at the boy for a while, stroking his hair thoughtfully.

“You can say, papa...” The boy said with a gentle voice. He raised a chubby hand and smoothed the blond's cheek, almost as his father did to him.

“His name... is Thuban.” Draco said finally, and Harry felt his whole body being washed. Thu'Ban... This name Draco called him when they had their first and only time together. When they promised to belong to each other. “He is yours. He is your son.”

“This is impossible. Draco, you are...”

“I said it was a long story. And you won’t believe me.” The blond interrupted, and Harry really found it hard to believe, but... Damn! Every time he looked at the boy, he saw his own expression there. Aside from the long hands and blue eyes, Thuban looked in all aspects just as himself.

He tried to reconcile those words, and awakened when Draco started to turn away.

“Draco, wait!” Harry called, walking up to him and holding him by the shoulder. “Explain to me. Please.”

__

 

_April 27th, 2001_

 

“Do you really want me to do it?” Draco asked, the basilisk’s fang in one hand, Rowena’s tiara on the floor between him, Harry and Thuban.

“Yes. It is your turn to do it...” Harry said, putting his son on his lap - _his son!_ \- And hugging him tightly as Draco stuck the fang in the tiara, killing then the sixth part of Voldemort's soul.

__

_May 1st, 2001_

 

“Is he really asleep?” Harry asked, his lips swollen red from the kisses he had exchanged with the blond, their legs tangled with as Draco passed a hand through his body, now stronger and more robust than it had been before.

The blond looked over his shoulder to a curtain that was next to the bed, behind which there was a crib. There was no noise or movement coming from there.

“He's all right, Harry... Come on...” Draco returned to kiss him again, his hands coming down and trying to take him off his trousers urgently, hid lips smiling, but with no intention of ceasing the kiss from that mouth, that he missed for so long.

__

_May 2nd, 2001_

 

“Where is he?” Draco looked up from the dish he was eating and turning his eyes to the gates of the Great Hall, seeing the Dark Lord entering the large doors, followed by several of his Death Eaters. His father was among them, as well as his mother and aunt. Narcissa looked at him with concern, but said nothing. Voldemort threw Madame Pomfrey in the middle of the room, and she looked at the blonde with eyes full of tears, muttering a soft "I’m sorry...". He squinted, and Snape was the one who asked.

“Where who is, my lord?” The headmaster asked, and Voldemort glared at him.

“The child! The child that this bitch gave birth!” He said, pointing to Draco, who stood up and left the table, walking until facing the Lord, but still a good distance away. “How could you...? I brought you to where you are today! I made you able to conceive! You were mine!”

“The only thing that is yours is your madness!” Draco almost screamed, and his whole body was shaking with anger. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He couldn’t bear it anymore. “Yes! A whore! I laid with him and gave birth to Harry Potter’s child! What do you think about this? What would you do if you knew that your preciousness was corrupted by the Undesirable Nº1?” The blonde asked, in a fit of madness. “You'll never find him, no matter where you look. He’s not yours. And he is _free_!”

“Silence!” Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, and pointed to the blond, his red eyes pulsing with rage. “Is that what you call a son, Lucius? Was _that_ what you promised me?”

“Draco ...!” Lucius called yet, but the blond was there, vulnerable among all the others, talking with a courage that he never felt before.

“No, Lucius. I'll do something I should’ve done when he was born.” Voldemort said, and was opening his lips to curse the blond when a voice spoke near the table.

“Coward!” Harry got out from under his cloak, walking to Draco’s side, but moving forward, getting closer to Voldemort. “This is why you will fall, Tom Riddle! Because you threaten those who don’t satisfy you! And kill those who are different from you.” He said, and opened his arms slightly. There was no wand in his hands. “It is not late. You don’t need that. It doesn’t have to be like this.

“Shut up!” Voldemort cried, and opened a cruel smile. “I looked for you for so many years... And now you're here... In front of me, because of some slut... But do not worry. His sacrifice will not be in vain. He soon will go with you.” He said, and with a wrist movement, the words were recited. “Avada Kedavra!”

__

When Harry woke up, something wet was dripping on his face, and someone was holding him. "Draco..." he thought, but didn’t dare to open his eyes.

“Where is the child?” Voldemort's voice asked again, and Draco's hand hold onto the dark-haired one clothes with force. Harry realized that he was holding his wand along with the tissues.

“I told you... He's not yours. He will never be yours.” Draco said firmly. On the same day that they destroyed Rowena’s tiara, Draco had revealed to Snape where the boy was now, so he wasn’t afraid to die. Thuban would be safe because Snape would take care of him.

“Silly boy! Potter is dead, he won’t save you this time.” The Dark Lord laughed, followed by some other Death Eaters, and again pointed his wand at Draco. “Avad-”

Harry, with his instincts always quick and trained thanks to Moody, took Draco's wand from where it was in the blond's hand and, in a split second, launched a non-verbal "expelliarmus" to the Lord, who's eyes widened in surprise, but managed to keep the spell working. Green and red dueled to know what spell would be the strongest, and Harry held Draco's wand firmly. Taking their cue, the other teachers at the table began to attack the Death Eaters in the room, as well as protect the students that perhaps would be there. Spells and curses were thrown everywhere, roaring walls, people shouted, and Harry had no idea if Draco was still close to him, so concentrated he was in that fight. Gradually Voldemort’s spell seemed to weaken, and as if giving up it’s master, and the green spell died, the wand leapt from the lord’s hand into Harry's, and the curse of death once again rebounded on its caster, this time forever.

__

_July 31st, 2002_

“Happy birthday, Harry.” Harry raised his head from a magazine he was reading and grinned at his boyfriend, standing in front of him with a little box in his hands. Boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband? He didn’t know exactly how to refer to his relationship with Draco, he never did. After winning the last battle of Hogwarts, they left before the celebrations. They spent some time with the refugees while the Order, the Army and the Aurors still faithful to the Light Side bound and eliminated all of the remaining Death Eaters, and only then, they looked for a place of their own.

It wasn’t easy. They both found that, despite the shared emotions, there was much they didn’t know about each other, and that created constant bickering. Gradually, however, as they got to know each other a little more, day by day, they began to understand each other better and, as if it were possible, become even more in love. Now they were living in a comfortable home near Wiltshire, with woods around the house and a huge garden where Thuban could play, and relatively away from muggles and wizards, as Harry hated attention. It had been over a year since they got back together, but to Harry, it seemed like a lifetime.

He took the box and looked at his son, which was eagerly waited for him to open the box.

“Come on, daddy! Open, open already!” The boy said, jumping in one place, his hands holding the brunet’s leg.

“Calm down, I'll just do it!” Harry said, laughing. He pulled the ribbon that held the lid and opened it, his smile slowly shifting to a confused expression.

Inside the box was a small pair of sandals, so small that probably would fit on the tips of two of Harry’s fingers. He swallowed hard, understanding taking care of him until he lifted his head to Draco, who laughed with a contagious joy, dimples forming on his cheeks.

He didn’t let the blond said anything. He put the box on the chair’s arm and pulled the blond onto his lap, kissing him with the same passion as always, his heart and all his organs like hopping with happiness. They would have another child. Another!

“Yuck!” He heard Thuban complaining, and laughed, turning his lips away from Draco’s, who also laughed against his mouth. “Adults are disgusting!”

And Harry laughed even more, returning to kiss his beautiful black, black snake.

_Fin~_

 


End file.
